


one heartbeat at a time

by deathflare



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fluff and Smut, Introspection, Morning After, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25981873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathflare/pseuds/deathflare
Summary: “May I,” he takes a breath, frustrated at his own bashfulness. “May I… brush your hair this morning?”She opens her eyes and blinks up at him, curious. G’raha can’t help but feel a little foolish for being so self conscious over such a simple request, after all the intimacy they’ve already shared.In the wake of their return to the Source, G’raha Tia and the Warrior of Light wallow in a lazy morning.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 12
Kudos: 144





	one heartbeat at a time

**Author's Note:**

> so 5.3 really was a thing and not a week long fever dream of mine, huh. i started writing this as soon as i finished the MSQ because i needed to put something out, but i didn’t really plan on it becoming a whole 2k words lmao. this is just a rushed, little self indulgent piece, because my love for this ship is immensurable and this patch gave it everything i wanted.
> 
> the wol depicted in this piece is my own oc, a raen au ra named shiori minami. naturally, beware of 5.3 spoilers.

G’raha wakes up slow, blinking against the stray rays of sunlight peering through the cracks in the drapes and over his face. His body feels light, well rested from a night of sleep that was, for once, dreamless and deep — nights he has had more often since waking up again, since coming _home_ at last. Still, he’s not yet used to no longer feeling so constantly tired; to feeling so _young._

He shifts slightly to look at the woman still asleep in his arms, her expression lax and peaceful, for once unburdened by the weight of the world resting upon her shoulders. His warrior. He’s not too proud to admit he has watched her sleep quite a few times before, but the sight from his mirror in the Ocular could not possibly compare to seeing her this close, to being able to hold her is his arms as he had dreamed countless times through the decades of waiting and hoping and _yearning_. 

He brings his fingers up to her face, lets them gently trace the scales over her cheeks. Her hair falls freely down her shoulders, down from the rather elaborate ponytail she usually wears — it has grown so long since they first met. He strokes it tenderly, presses a kiss to the top of her head. Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice when she begins to stir, realizing she’s awake only when he catches her stormy grey eyes staring into his. 

“Good morning,” she says, smiling, voice still groggy with sleep. “You’re up early.”

“My apologies for waking you,” he says, though he can’t help but return her smile. 

“Hmm,” she hums, nuzzling against his bare chest. “No need to apologize. I can hardly complain about being woken like this.”

“I shall keep that in mind, then.” He says, leaning down to press a brief kiss to her lips, then sweeping her bangs away with his hand to press another to the space between her brows. He continues, trailing his lips along one eyebrow, over the delicate skin of her temple and down the curve of her jaw; leaving soft, barely-there kisses wherever his lips can reach.

G’raha’s had lovers before his slumber, and though they were not many, his time with them had been pleasant nonetheless. Yet he had never felt such a burning desire to kiss anyone like this before, to kiss and kiss them simply to feel the heat of their skin beneath his lips. He pulls back briefly to see that Shiori’s eyes are closed again, her cheeks flushed the lightest pink. He presses a light kiss to both her eyelids and watches, fascinated, as she shivers. 

She opens her eyes slowly and then pulls at him, insistent, twisting their bodies so that their legs tangle up together and he leans his full body weight on top of hers. He begins working his way down the column of her throat, then takes his time crawling down her body, stopping to kiss and lick and gently suck at every little bit of skin that he can get his mouth on. When he trails kisses down her stomach her hand slips down her body to clutch at his hair, and she lets out a breathy moan that goes straight to his groin. 

“Ah,” she sighs when he presses a wet, open mouthed kiss to her inner thigh. “I could _definitely_ get used to being woken like this.”

“And I would be most glad to oblige.” 

She’s naked from the night before, and when he reaches down to trace his fingers over her he can feel how aroused she already is. Though he’s tempted to take his time and coax those sweet little pleas he’s become so desperately addicted to from her lips, his desire to just _taste_ her outweighs it. And so he dips his head forward, tongue licking between her lips, parting them, before using the whole length of his tongue to lick over her clit. She rewards him with the most lovely, tiny breathy noises at the back of her throat, one hand clutching harder at his hair while the other comes up to grip the pillow beside her head, and G’raha’s fingers dig into her thighs as he swirls his tongue over and over; his every sense overwhelmed by the feeling, the scent and the taste of her. 

Her first orgasm is wrung out of her like that, slow and teasing, her mouth parted in half gasp, half cry as her thighs tense and shake on either side of his head. When she comes down from it, legs falling limp on the bed again, he rests his cheek on her thigh and smiles up at her, boyish and sly, feeling a little proud of himself. She sighs and rolls her eyes at him fondly, before making grabby hands at him until he climbs up the bed to hover over her again. 

She brings a hand up to brush his bangs away from his eyes, looking up at him with so much _love_ in her gaze G’raha feels himself well up a little. He leans down to kiss her, licking into her mouth and nibbling at her lips, breathing her in any way that he can. He can’t help the way his cheeks flush as she kisses back so earnestly, knowing she can taste herself in his tongue. 

She shifts underneath him, and when her leg brushes against his groin he moans into her mouth. They break apart, then, Shiori looking up at him with a knowing smile before bringing her legs up and wrapping them around his waist, a silent invitation. His head spins — he can feel her against him, so warm and wet, as he dips down and drops kisses along her jawline in an attempt to ground himself.

“Raha, _please_.” she whimpers, and it’s all it takes for any semblance of restraint to leave him. He lines himself up and slips inside of her in one full, slow thrust, making Shiori gasp and himself groan. He stills for a long moment, overwhelmed, waits until she begins rutting up against him, impatient, to start moving.

G’raha keeps the pace slow and languid, taking his time to simply relish the feeling of Shiori clenching around him, her hands running through his hair, her chest pressed against his. He leans down to kiss and suck at her neck and she lets out the most lovely noises, little mewls and whimpers that bring him closer and closer to the edge. 

He knows he won’t last long. The next time she makes noise, a little whine on an exhale, he moves again, holding his weight on one arm so he can bring his other hand down between them. She gasps his name when he rubs at her clit, and it’s not long before she’s coming again, mouth parted in a wordless cry and nails digging into his shoulders. G’raha follows swiftly, burying his face and his broken moans on the curve of her neck.

It’s all he can do to hold himself up not to crush her under his weight as he comes down from his high. She coaxes him through it, stroking his hair and murmuring little words of affection that make his heart swell. It takes him a minute to move, falling back into the bed to lay at her side again. He meets her gaze when he does, her smile scrunching her eyes into endearing half-moons.

“Good morning, G’raha Tia,” she says again, voice tinted with a hint of astonishment, as if she can’t quite believe he’s truly here—a sentiment he shares still.

He smiles, reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers before bringing them up to his face, pressing a kiss to the back of hers. “Good morning, my star,” he replies, just for the way she flushes at the name. 

Once he feels able to move again, G’raha gets off the bed to grab a washcloth, gently cleaning the both of them before settling back in bed and pulling the covers over both their bodies, holding Shiori close and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

They’re both silent for a few minutes—G’raha closes his eyes and allows himself to simply enjoy the presence of his lover in his arms. Never had he imagined he would someday be able to start his days like this, that he would no longer have to look at her back as she leaves to where he can’t follow, in the adventures he dreamed of going since he was a boy. He’s free and young and _happy_ —a Scion, no less, finally, _finally_ able to stand beside her as an equal, as an ally, as her _lover_ ; to hold her and kiss her and make gentle love to her in lazy mornings such as this. 

Yet he still yearns for so much. Little things, mostly, small acts of intimacy he would often daydream about in the time they had been apart; even more, once they finally reunited. He wonders if she would indulge him.

“Shiori?” he asks, hesitantly, after a few moments.

“Hmm?” she assents, eyes still closed.

“May I,” he takes a breath, frustrated at his own bashfulness. “May I… brush your hair this morning?”

She opens her eyes and blinks up at him, curious. G’raha can’t help but feel a little foolish for being so self conscious over such a simple request, after all the intimacy they’ve already shared.

“Of course,” she says, after a brief moment. “But why?”

He can feel himself flush at the question, and Shiori chuckles lightly at his embarrassment, reaching out to squeeze his hand reassuringly when he pouts, bashful. 

“I remember seeing you let the children braid your hair, the day of the festivities at the Crystarium.” He explains. The people of the Crystarium had thought to celebrate their safe return from the Tempest with a party, and Shiori had been surrounded by curious children, eager to know everything they could about the Warrior of Darkness. Ever indulgent when it comes to young ones, she had let a few Mystel children play with her hair, entertained their clumsy attempts at styling it. “The thought has been... stuck in my mind since then. Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Raha,” she says gently. “I have to get dressed fist, but after that— I’d love you to.”

She presses a quick kiss to his lips before sitting up and getting off the bed, walking to her— _theirs_ now, he thinks, dazed—dresser and fishing out some comfortable clothes to wear. His eyes follow her every move, a quiet and gentle warmth settling over him at the domesticity of it. 

"Would you like me to find you something too, or are you simply enjoying the view?" She asks as she changes, glancing over to their shared bed with wry smile G'raha quickly returns.

"Both," he answers truthfully, starting to pull himself out of bed, “If you would be so kind.”

It’s not long before they’re both dressed and Shiori’s sitting in front of her vanity with G’raha behind her, hairbrush in hand. It is then that he realizes his request may be a more challenging endeavor than he had initially expected — Shiori’s hair is _long_. It’s not quite so noticeable when she keeps it tied up so high, but now that it’s let down it nearly reaches her hips.

He realizes he must make for quite a comical sight, standing there staring at his lover’s hair like it’s a particularly complex puzzle he can’t figure out how to solve, but if Shiori notices, she says nothing. After a moment and another deep breath he begins running the brush through her hair, slow and careful. He remembers when Lyna was young and he would try, clumsily, to style her hair. He wasn’t very good at it, he reckons, but she was so happy whenever he tried anyway that he couldn’t possibly deny her.

It’s a different feeling, brushing Shiori’s hair. Oddly intimate. He knows she takes good care of it, even has a bit of a complex routine when it comes to that as he has witnessed at times, so he can’t help the little burst of pride he feels at her letting him do this. She closes her eyes and relaxes into his touch as he works his way through every knot, brushes every lock until they’re silky smooth, as gentle and careful as he can be. When he’s done, he runs a hand through her hair just to feel the softness of it through his fingers, Shiori letting out a pleased little hum as he does. 

“You have beautiful hair,” he blurts out before he can think, and Shiori giggles. He could get drunk on the sound of her laughter, he thinks. 

“Thank you, Raha.” She says, leaning into his touch with a smile filled with a tenderness he can’t quite put into words, and he knows she doesn’t mean just for the compliment. Above everything, it’s those genuine, small displays of affection that still make him blush like a schoolboy navigating the murky waters of a first love.

He reaches for one of her hair ties as a feeble attempt to hide his flushed cheeks; tries his best to tie her hair up as similarly as to when she does it herself, though he finds himself a bit challenged when handling the corsage she usually wears. The result, despite his best efforts, ends up being a little messier than her usual perfectly tidy hairdo. G’raha sighs, a little frustrated.

“I’m not sure I did this correctly,” he says, apologetic. “But thank you for indulging me nonetheless.”

Shiori, however, takes only a brief glance at herself in the mirror before her face lights up. “It’s perfect,” she tells him, sounding impossibly satisfied despite his clumsy work. When she stands up she turns and reaches out to wrap her arms over his shoulders, one hand threading through the small hairs at the back of his neck. “I’ll have to ask you to do it more often, if you will indulge me yourself.”

His own hands find their way to her waist instinctively, thumbing lazily at her hip bones. “You know I could never deny you anything,” he says, returning her smile before leaning down to press his lips to hers, slow and gentle. 

G’raha is still not used to this—the easy happiness, the affectionate touches, _her_ , so close to his reach. But it’s quite alright if he takes awhile to grow accustomed to it, after all. From now on, he has all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you very much for reading! do yell at me about 5.3 and graha’s bouncy ears on [twitter](https://twitter.com/deathflares) and [tumblr.](http://verthunder.tumblr.com/)


End file.
